


Undertale Shorts

by Tsaiko



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Puns, Customer Service & Tech Support, Drinking, Explicit Language, Gen, Musicians, Red has a potty mouth, Shorts, retail work, weird sense of humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 04:12:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16590620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsaiko/pseuds/Tsaiko
Summary: A collection of shorts about Undertale that really aren't long enough to justify their own stories and/or don't fit into any project I am currently working on.





	1. Reassurance is not reassuring (Gen)

Riding in the convertible with Papyrus was usually a pleasant experience. On warm days, he put the top down and Sans got to enjoy the cool wind. On cold days, Papyrus kept the top up and the heater on. Today was an autumn day, one of those weird in-between ones where it had started too cold and now was too warm. Papyrus had left the top up since there was frost on the windows when they left the house. He'd dropped it down at the gas station they had stopped less than an hour ago.

It was still too warm though, especially with the sunlight quickly warming the leather seats. Sans tried unzipping his hoodie, but it didn't help all that much. So Sans decided to take his hoodie off.

"SANS, PLEASE DO NOT STRIP DOWN IN MY CAR WHILE I AM DRIVING. IT IS DISTRACTING."

"i won't strip down all the way." Sans said as he got his arm untangled from the sleeve. "probably."

The thing about knowing about multiple universes and timelines, was that it made making promises a dicey proposition. What if the clothes Sans was wearing were covered in corrosive goo? Or if they spontaneously combusted? Or if someone threatened Papyrus is Sans didn't get naked? Just because none of those scenarios were probably didn't mean they were impossible.

"PROBABLY? I WOULD LIKE A LITTLE MORE ASSURANCE THAN THAT."

Sans laughed, the wind snatching the sound away. He didn't have to promise. Reassurance would be enough.

"i won't strip in your passenger seat while you're driving."

"IT WOULD BE BETTER IF YOU WEREN'T LAUGHING WHILE YOU SAID THAT," Papyrus said sourly. "I FIND YOUR LACK OF SINCERITY DISTURBING."

"just trying to be helpful, bro."

"ARE YOU?" The look Papyrus gave him out of the corner of his eye was a bit speculative. "WELL, IF YOU ARE FEELING HELPFUL THEN PERHAPS YOU COULD PICK UP YOUR SOCK WHEN WE GET HOME."

"hmmm." It was a non-committal kind of sound. Papyrus sighed.

"YOU KNOW I WAS MORE ASSURED OF THE FACT YOU WOULD NOT GET NAKED IN MY PASSENGER SEAT BEFORE YOU STARTED TRYING TO REASSURE ME."


	2. The Customer Service Voice (Gen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Red start talking after work on a Friday at Grillby's, and Red explains why he no longer works retail. Surprisingly, it's not because he snapped and murdered a customer.

It was Friday. It was payday. It was after work. Two skeletons walked into a bar. Sans was pretty sure that was the set-up for a joke, but after dealing with people for 40 hours over the last five days, he wasn't sure he could come up with a joke. Maybe dealing with people for 40 hours over the last five days was the joke. If it was, then it wasn't that funny.

Grillby waved at them from behind the bar, gesturing to the small booth tucked into the back corner. Sans preferred the bar, but Red hated having his back to the room. It made him twitchy. Since in Red's case twitchy usually meant "bone attack first, questions later" and Grillby promised to ban them both if anyone got dusted, they compromised. By sitting in the back corner booth so that Red could have a wall at his back and an unobstructed view of the bar. As long as it worked, Sans would go along with it.

"This week has sucked ass," Red said as he slid into the booth. 

"Agreed," Sans replied. It was his week to buy drinks, but first he needed to know exactly what kind of week it was. "So am I getting condiments or alcohol?"

"Alcohol. Fuck. Boss will kill me if I come home drunk, but _I don't care._ "

"Yeah, that's not going to be a worry buddy. My paycheck doesn't cover that many drinks," Sans replied. Red gave a short bark of laughter. There was a tension in his shoulders, in his voice, that hadn't been there for months. Ever since he'd gotten the job with security at the Embassy. Ever since _Edge_ had gotten Red a job with security at the Embassy.

Sans would make a joke about nepotism, but honestly, Red had been so much more relaxed now that Sans wouldn't want him to go back. Sometimes nepotism was good. Like when it prevented Red from snapping while working a shitty retail job and murdering a customer.

Grillby already had two bottles on the bar – one mustard, one ketchup – when he walked up. He wasn't upset though when Sans instead ordered two beers. Good beer too. This wasn't the night for the cheap stuff. He walked back, put the beer on the table, and took his seat across from Red.

"So I was thinking..." Sans started. Red cut him off.

"Well don't hurt yourself."

"You know, you should try to actually be funny sometime. See how the other half lives," Sans replied. Red scoffed, but popped the top off the beer. 

One thing he liked about Red was that he could be just as mean as Sans could be. Maybe it was written into their DNA? There was some poor PhD candidate's dissertation topic right there: the theory that the alternate universes all started with the same source code before overlaying their own quirks and idiosyncrasies. Red was an asshole. So was Sans. Nosy as fuck too. The difference was Red didn't work at trying to tone it down like Sans did. Papyrus cared when Sans was an asshole. Edge usually didn't. Which meant Red didn't really take offense when Sans was both nosy and an asshole, and Sans returned the favor.

"What do you want to know? Ain't going to get offended." Red took a swig of beer. "Not unless you ask about kinky shit. Then I'm going to act like the offended virgin I am."

"If you are a virgin I will eat this beer bottle," Sans said. He didn't have first-hand knowledge on Red's lack of virginity, so to speak, but Red had told him stories before. Usually while drunk. Loudly. Even if Sans's paycheck would allow for enough alcohol to get Red drunk, Grillby would cut them off long before he got to that point.

"Good thing it ain't true then."

There was a long pause where they both drank their beers. Then Sans asked the question he'd been wanting to for a while. "I'm not complaining about how you're not trying to murder people now, but what made you switch jobs?"

"Wasn't my decision." If there was any bitterness there, Sans couldn't hear it in Red's voice or see it on his face. "The boss said I needed to change jobs. So I changed jobs."

"Edge?" From what "And you just listened to him?"

"Fuck, no. I ain't that easy." Red pushed the bottle around on the table, seemingly fascinated by the condensation. Sans waited him out. Patience was one of his traits, not Red's. "We had a big fight. Lasted three days. Boss was right though. I needed to get out. Don't tell him that."

"Sure. Older brother solidarity. Won't let your bro know he was right." Sans held out his fist, and Red bumped it with his own. "What started the whole thing?"

"I used my customer service voice on him."

"Your customer service voice?" Sans had heard of the concept. Some of the other tech support people had talked about it. He'd never bothered to develop one. Listening to frustrated humans was actually funny to him, and Sans had found that being an endless well of patience either calmed customers down or riled them up better than anything he could do with his voice.

Red sighed. He closed his eyes, focused inward, and then opened them. Sans was a little taken aback at the thousand yard stare and the too bright smile. When he spoke it was still Red's voice. Except the pitch was higher, the enunciation crisper, and his accent smoothed out. The forced deference set Sans's teeth on edge. "I understand, sir, and I'm very sorry there is a problem. Would you like me to get a manager for you?"

"Yeah, okay. Agreeing with the Edgelord here. That is fucking creepy. And you just... used that on him?"

"He looked like I'd kicked his cat or something," Red said, his voice dropping back into the customary growl, the vowels turning round and lazy. "I was working weird hours, no set schedule, closing one night and then having to come in early and open the next morning, and there was never a fucking manager around. The customers are all assholes. It was a shitshow. I didn't even realize I had done it until I saw the look on his face." Red downed more of his beer. "I may have to spend half my day convincing people to trust me even though I have LV while working security, but at least I always know I'm going to put in 8 hours a day, five days a week, and then go the fuck home."

"Still got problems though?" Sans asked. Red waved his concern way.

"Yeah, fuck it. The alternative is worse. I can deal." Red took another drink, finishing the bottle off. Sans was barely a quarter of the way through his own beer. "Anything else you want to know?"

"Anyway I can get you to never do that voice again?" Sans asked. Red smiled.

"Buy me another beer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea that Red may have once worked retail is both horrifying and hilarious to me. Then I thought "What if he developed a customer service voice?" Then I imagined the look on Edge's face if Red were to use it on him. Which is what inspired this entire chapter. I admit it, I laughed a lot at look on Edge's face. I am not a nice person.


	3. Let it slide (Gen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans being able to play the trombone catches Edge off-guard.

The first time Edge saw Sans play a trombone, it caught him off guard, and the expressions on his face were a journey. It was like watching Edge go through the five stages of grief. Only not.

He pulled the instrument out of nowhere, and it made Edge pause. Did Sans keep a trombone in his inventory? Why? Then Sans started playing, a series of sad "wah waah waah waaaaaaaaaah" notes. Sans could play an instrument? Red didn't know how, had never had a chance to pick one up. It made Edge wonder if his brother could have learned to play. Another lost opportunity because of their universe. Wait. Trombone. Was that a pun? Did Sans spends years learning a musical instruments just for a pun?

Sans might have hidden depths, but unfortunately, they were filled with nothing but puns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brought to you by the memory of what slide oil smells like. I was telling Miome that "Sans must use it. He plays the trombone." and then she came up with this idea. Which I promptly turned into a short fic.


End file.
